All right friends, today things are getting a little wild on the blog. When I receive communications from publishers, authors, or marketing professionals I am nothing if not honest. I’m willing to take a look at almost anything so long as it has even a minute amount of Jewish content, but I am a slow reader and I never promise a review. For one thing, life is busy and thoughtful reading takes time. For another, there are some genres that rarely are a hit with me. Horror is the one I struggle with the most. I’m trying to expand our picture book and nonfiction offerings. But poetry? I never made a statement about that because, unless it’s a novel in verse, it is so far removed from my typical reading and writing it never occurred to me to review it here.
So how did I come to be reviewing Eleanor Lerman’s seventh poetry collection, Slim Blue Universe? The publicist put it though our Suggest a Book form and I was feeling adventurous at the time. Also, much like the title promises, it is a slim volume so it’s not like I was investing a tremendous amount of time. Lastly, the cover is a deep navy blue with wonderful, universe-representing, celestial graphics. Everyone knows I’m a sucker for aesthetically pleasing, space, astronomy, or celestial type stuff. So I said I’d give the book a try.
No, I did not miraculously come to an understanding of rhyme and meter, nor did my abstract thinking suddenly improve to the point where I can parse these poems with ease. This is not that kind of review. I fully admit that I could not read a single piece straight through and feel confident that I understood it. That’s not the books fault, that’s on me and my limited skill set. It has occurred with any poetry I am fool enough to approach.
So why then am I writing a review? Isn’t BookishlyJewish a site for recommendations only? Well, not understanding doesn’t mean I didn’t have a good time. In fact, I’m not entirely convinced poetry is meant to be understood. The people who claim to do so are usually the type of academics who have degrees in extremely obscure subjects and select their thesis topics based on how few people will be interested in them. For me, and probably ninety percent of the reading universe, understanding is not the point. For us plebeians, poetry is about feeling.
Slim Blue Universe has several sections, and a few references to Judaism, but reading across the poems I had certain recurrent emotions. I found myself reflecting on getting older and also my social media use. How much is it worth engaging with a wide anonymously audience vs. a smaller in person one? What will my legacy be when I die? Do I even want a legacy? When did I stop being young? You get the point. It was a ponderous Shabbat to say the least.
Are these the thoughts the author intended for me to have? I have no idea. I can never confidently say that for any fiction book either. This is a book review website, not a class in divination. What I can say is, Slim Blue Universe was a quick read that left me with lots of not so quick thoughts to mull over. Some of the turns of phrase and metaphors were very beautiful. Others went right over my head. Will I venture further into reading poetry? Hard to say. But I’d hate for that pretty book to get lonely on my shelf.
BookishlyJewish received an arc of this book from the publicist
I’ve read almost every kind of fantasy. Some for the exciting new magic systems or secondary worlds, and others for the familiarity of well worn tropes that represent a comfort read. Portal fantasy is typically the latter. As such it can be a pretty hard sell for agents and editors. Therefore, I’ve never written it. My personal form of self flagellation in that regard is YA sci fi, which I insist on writing despite everyone insisting it is unsalable, but I digress. The point I’m trying to make is that Portals are as old as the fantasy genre itself, have a devoted readership, but must to do something really special to make it through trad pub. The Pomegranate Gate by Ariel Kaplan managed to do just that while also introducing a host of intriguing characters, a very strong voice, and a plot so layered it might as well be an archeological dig.
While there are many viewpoints in The Pomegranate Gate, the two major characters we need to concern ourselves with are Toba, a young lady from a formerly wealthy family who has a host of mysterious talents and ailments, and Naftaly, the world’s worst tailor. Both find themselves fleeing home as an inquisition forces all Jews to leave or convert. Along the journey, Toba manages to fall through a portal into a world of Maziks and discovers some answers about her past. Meanwhile Naftaly seems to feel the need to rescue her and discovers some hidden things about himself too.
Therein ends my plot summary, because as I mentioned before, there are so many twists and turns, layers upon layers, I will get hopelessly lost trying to be succinct about it. In fact, I would dearly love to see the one page synopsis the author created if she queried this traditionally because condensing this epic into that form would be evidence of true magic.
Moving on, I’d like to focus on the things I enjoyed the most about The Pomegranate Gate. There’s a system of lucid dreaming in the Mazik world, where these dreams are shared and can impact reality, that was fascinating and also used to great effect in the plot. Then we come to voice. Toba, who feels neurodivergent to me but is never given a label, manages to split herself into two and we get to spend time in both Toba’s heads. In a true show of skill, Kaplan manages to give them separate and distinct voices. In fact, if the splitting of Toba wasn’t so necessary for the plot, I might have thought she was just showing off. Because the SAME PERSON having such distinct personalities and thoughts was kind of awesome.
Most intriguing of all is how Kaplan pulls off a kind of steamy romance without any actual heat on the page or off. When Naftaly finally figures out he’s never felt desirous of a wife because he, as the reader has suspected for some time, is interested in the other gender, there is a very compelling romance. The yearning is palpable. Even kind of hot. Yet it’s a very low heat book. Forget sex, there’s barely kissing. Somehow it works, even for a person such as myself who typically likes to bring all the heat to romance.
Much like the worlds employed by this book, there are touches of the familiar in the plot, but also stuff that is so unique. Even before anyone steps through any portal the book presents us with a completely Jewish magic system and a community of both humans and magical beings in line with Jewish folklore. It was a comfort read, but also a page turner. Which shouldn’t be shocking since the book does hint that combinations can indeed be superior to their original components.
Basically – for any writer that’s ever been confused when an agents or editor says something is a tough sell but they’ll be willing to take it on if it does something completely new and different, this is the textbook from which to learn what they mean. It’s a portal that utilizes all the best tropes of portals. It will meet your portal expectations. But it will also be totally different from what you expected. What magic is this?
BookishlyJewish requests a review copy from the publisher, and I believe they attempted to send one, but it never arrived so I took it out from the library. I will always find books one way or another.It just takes longer.
There’s something about the “writing community” that has bothered me for a long time. For a group of people that claim to be interested in social justice and improving access and equity, we sure have a real elitist set up for accessing certain aspects of said community. To me, if you have written a thing, whether you intend to publish it or not, you’re a writer/author. You should be able to enter into conversation about that without having to pass a bevvy of tests. Alas, that often isn’t how it works. Got an agent? Awesome! But you still can’t join that private discord until you have a publishing contract. Oh, you have a contract? Awesome! But unless you’re a lead title at a big five your opinions aren’t worth much and you should stay quietly lurking in the corner. Went indie or self-published? That’s so lovely for you, but our debut group isn’t interested in that right now. And don’t get me started on what it means for a writer to be told “no response is no” from some agents who are simply “too busy” to extend the courtesy of a one line form rejection to queries.
While there are many oases of kindness, they are unfortunately exceptions to the rule that plays itself out on social media over and over for the discerning observer to spot. I have never seen anything so hilariously sad as the author who desperately tried to backtrack after she showed her entire rear end by stating that she was “an actual author” only after her big five published book was out. Way to anger half the readership and almost everyone who might help market said big five published book. I’ve been pretty lucky in my publishing journey, but it still grates on me to watch this happen, because I’m not big on prestige based societies that require applicants to figure out an arbitrary secret set of rules that nobody will even talk about. Which is why I absolutely adored Leigh Bardugo’s dark, adult, contemporary, paranormal Ninth House.
The story involves Alex Stern, the most unlikely of candidates, finding herself enrolled at Yale. Only it’s not the regular Yale that run of the mill students enjoy. Alex’s Yale is a Yale that includes secret magical societies which only a select elite student body has access to. How does Alex, a former teen runaway whose last known associates were drug dealers that died under suspicious circumstances, find herself in such rarefied company? Well, all those behavior and mental health issues that lead to her downward spiral in life were caused by her exceptionally rare ability to see ghosts.
Alex is recruited to Lethe, the society established in order to police the other societies, as her unique gifts make her well positioned for a job in containing the supernatural. Turns out, her mysterious benefactors at Lethe have been aware of her abilities for a while, but as Alex is quick to point out, they did absolutely nothing to help her until they thought she could be useful to them. Rather than being grateful and taking orders, Alex pushes back against any narrative that establishes her as the unworthy recipient of generosity from such a saintly group and points out their flawed ethics every chance she gets. And she is absolutely right to do so, because mixing magic of epic proportions with young adults that have known nothing but a life of privilege in which they have never met a real consequence is – shock! – not such a great idea.
What everyone else sees as a normal extension of the natural social order, Alex sees as some of the worst moral corruption in existence. And the reader is hard pressed not to agree when viewing the world through Alex’s outsider eyes. Some of the uses these coeds put magic to are stomach churning, including the opening scene in which an undomiciled person’s mental illness is used as a cover for subjecting them to magical experimentation and undesired surgeries. Remember that freshman orientation speech about consent and what drugs and alcohol can do to that scenario? Now imagine there’s mind altering magic in the mix. Yet nobody, including the adult alumnae of these societies, seems to care so long as the magic and the money keep flowing- until the bodies start showing up. That, unfortunately, they cannot ignore.
Alex is like a dog with a bone, refusing to let go of the investigation into magical corruption even when she is ordered to stand down. I was able to spot the major plot twists, the red herring, and the ultimate villain coming from a mile away. What kept me reading Ninth House was not the plot. It was Alex and her constant refusal to play by anyone else’s rules. It was pure joy to watch her gain the upper hand in several situations simply for doing things nobody thought she would do. Because they grew up rich and with certain expectations from life. Thanks to Lethe’s staunch refusal to intervene and help Alex when she first began to see ghosts, Alex grew up fighting.
I can’t help but think about the current nature of traditional publishing and the million of ailments that plague it. It is an institution almost as bloated as this fictionalized version of Yale with offenses that grow ever more egregious while everyone pretends that this is totally normal. It is now common for editors to ghost submissions, publishers are slicing up advances into smaller and smaller installments, and allocation of marketing funds and support is such a black box that the CEO of Simon and Schuster stated under oath that there’s a reason the word “random” is included in the name of Penguin Random House. Not to mention the idea that authors works can be fed willy nilly into AI, often without their consent, to actively train their “replacement.” Meanwhile, authors are told they must follow a specific set of rules, be patient, and take what crumbs they are offered, or nobody will give them a key to the castle. Well, perhaps it’s time we all took a page from Alex’s book and point out that the castle is, in fact, on fire.
The language of Ninth House is dark and gritty which fits the setting and overall vibe. There is a cool use of ladino as a diaspora language having special power over the dead. But most of all, it was satisfying to read about someone who actually has the guts to look privilege in the eye and give it the middle finger. Because maybe it’s not always worth the self flagellation required for the chance at being condescended to in elite social circles. This book will light a fire in you. Don’t let it be for nothing.
There are many valid paths to publishing, and they’ve been quite good to me as a whole, but I can’t help but notice what goes on around me. Maybe because like Alex, I did not grow in the soil from which the publishing elite springs. No MFA. No Iowa writers course. No Clarion or Viable Paradise workshops. No invitations to fancy exclusive discords (although huge shout outs to all the Jewish writer Discords that are open to all and welcomed me. Same goes for Dream Foundry and the like. You do good work!). So I take great pains to look at ALL options available to me without judging any as more prestigious or better than the other, and when any of them start prioritizing corporate profit over the creatives on whose existence they depend for their very life’s blood, there is a problem. Sometimes it just takes an outsider to see it.
So what can we do about it? Well, in preparation for the sequel (which I am excited to read) Alex forms a posse. Maybe we can stop judging each other for going trad or indie, having an agent or not, being big five vs. small house, six figure or no advance. Maybe we can try and acknowledge that we are all people striving to create in an environment that is often hostile. Writing relationships shouldn’t be about what we can get from one another but how we can support each other. There’s power in numbers. Kaminando kon buenos.
There comes a time during the writing process for every one of my books when everyone but me, the writer of record, knows what needs to happen. My critique partners, agent, heck even my non-writer friends can plainly point out what I need to do to fix the narrative. Yet it still takes me weeks, kicking and screaming, to see what was right in front of my face the whole time. In this, I resemble Josie Star, heroine of Rebecca’s Crowley’s latest m/f romance, Texas Cowboy Sweetheart.
Josie opens the book with a bang, quitting her high powered corporate job without hesitation in order to take over The Lone Star Ranch from her father after he is injured. Josie has known her whole life she was destined to take over ranch management, and had been preparing for this moment, so it shouldn’t come as surprise to anyone when she assumes ownership. Yet somehow, ranch foreman Easton, who just so happens to be Josie’s childhood best friend, still manages to feel gut punched that he was never in the running for a higher role and potential ownership at The Lone Star.
While Josie has been far away attending college and climbing the corporate ladder, Easton’s been managing the day to day at The Lone Star. Now his absentee best friend is also his boss. Awkward much? Wait until he realizes he’s also in love with her. Yes, this is a best friends to lovers book that also manages to be a non exploitative and completely consensual boss/employee relationship. The romance is medium heat to me, with two explicit sex scenes.
Easton and Josie are so painfully perfect for each other that everyone else, including Josie’s three sisters, realize they should be a couple. It still takes them some time to come around to it though. Both have their own complicated pasts and emotional hook ups, but when they finally find a way through that baggage, the pay off is almost as good as finally untangling that plot snarl and managing to do the thing my characters need when I’m writing. Because Easton and Josie obviously need each other.
I loved that the setting was not one where most people typically expect to find a Jewish family. Josie very clearly identifies as Jewish and has her own ways of celebrating and observing that fact. The author clearly knows a thing or two about ranching, and Josie also represent a strong female presence in a male dominated industry. I would, however, council that this may not be the book for vegetarians. Every time we met a cute calf I was painfully aware that it was most likely being raised for food purposes. Especially with all the talk of beef prices.
This is the first in a series, and I expect each of the Star sisters we have met in this book will have their chance to shine. In addition, a subplot about family secrets and antisemitism experienced by the girls mother after she converted will hopefully be more fleshed out in the upcoming books. The seeds for a fine series are planted here.
Note: BookishlyJewish received a free e-arc from the author in the hopes we would review it.
Today we are bringing you a cover reveal for With A Good Eye by Gila Green.
About the book:
Luna Levi is an ordinary 19 year old with extraordinary problems. Her mother’s acting career is more important to her than the stage of real life. Her father struggles with PTSD as an ex-combat soldier and is equally MIA when it comes to his daughter. The Levis jump from financial crisis to financial crisis until in one-split second someone enters their lives and throws them into the biggest disaster of all. When Luna tries to warn her mother, she is pushed aside and it’s the first hint that her mother has every intention of going full steam ahead with a partner who lies – about everything.
Can you ever save anyone but yourself?
Do any of us ever really leave home?
And here is the cover, designed by AOS Publishing, Montreal
Afikoman, Where’d You Go? A Passover Hide And Seek Adventure
Written by Rebecca Gardyn Levington and Illustraed by Noa Kelner
February 20, 2024, Rocky Pond Books
40 pages
Review By: E. Broderick
There’s a concept in both the written and visual arts called the Easter egg, in which the artist includes small hints or tidbits for those in their fandom to find. These references will completely fly over the heads of most readers, but for those in the know, it can add a whole new layer of complexity by providing additional activities for the reader to engage in over subsequent reads. I love the concept, but I don’t feel comfortable using a term involving a Christian holiday when it comes to my Jewish themed work. I was therefore thrilled to learn that several Jewish authors describe this concept in their work as an “Afikomen” instead, after the piece of matzah that is hidden during the Passover seder, and then hunted down by Seder participants.
In Afikoman, Where’d You Go, the two concepts meet – with the story being about a literal Afikomen, but also involving hidden pictures for the reader to find.
At their best, picture books allow both the text and the illustration to tell part of the story. Ideally, one aspect cannot work without the other. In addition, it is my preference that while books are being read by a caregiver (or in some adorable situations an older child who knows how to read) the child being read to should be to interact with the the story through the illustration. In Afikoman Where’d You Go?, there is a story for the adults to follow and read but the main activity actually belongs to the child searching the illustrations for hidden matzah.
The story follows the children gathered at a Seder as they search for a very sneaky Afikomen. On each page an animated Afikomen is indeed hiding amongst the diverse Seder participants and the readers must find it. I can attest that having taken my copy of the book out into the wild and read it to children, or observed them reading to each other, that they really enjoy this hide and seek aspect of the book. There were races to see who would find the matzah first and a lot of consternation when it becomes apparent that the Afikomen is actually slated to be eaten!
The sneaky Afikomen manages to avoid the fate of being consumed and the children, both in the book and in real life, were delighted to follow its exploits. The book was interactive and likely to be easier for parents to read over and over again than books without this additional element. The only complaint I received was from children confused as to why I was reading them a Passover book before it was even Purim yet. Overall, that’s a pretty high praise from a tough to please age demographic.
Note: BookishlyJewish received a copy of the book from the publisher after it was suggested in our Suggest A Book form.
As you might imagine, given my current role on this website, I read a lot. I also read more widely across genres than I used to, which has been a real gift to my personal growth as a writer. It’s engaging and informative, and I wouldn’t trade it for the world, but it also means I’m fairly hard to surprise when it comes to what a book can and cannot do. So I was delighted when To & Fro, a literary novel that is actually two separate stories, by Leah Hager Cohen, managed to subvert my expectations at every stage of the reading process.
This novel was mysterious from the get go. It appeared on my radar when someone filled out our Suggest A Book form, but unlike most forms which are filled out by either the author or their publicity and/or marketing teams, this form came from an unidentified fan who had seen early versions of the novel. May we all have critique partners and early readers who are so dedicated to our work. Or rather, may we all write such wonderful stories as to inspire the kind of devotion that has the reader going online and spending the time to fill out forms recommending the story to reviewers.
Then came the physical book itself. When I said earlier that To & Fro comprises two stories, I was not kidding. When I slid the book out of its packaging envelope I saw a lovely blue cover featuring a mirror. Then I flipped it over to read the back cover copy and instead found the exact same cover, only with a yellow background. What was going on? Turns out this is two mirrored narratives each starting from a different end of the book – you literally have to flip it over to read the next one – and they meet in the middle. There was also a little note explaining how the book came to be published, including a description of how Cohen tried to force the narratives to be interlocking in a bid to please traditional publishers, only to find her acceptance with an editor who gently suggested they be printed separately, as she had originally intended.
In one narrative, conveniently labelled “To,” we follow a young girl named Ani who is living in circumstances that are obviously fictional. In fact, she is meant to be living inside Kafka’s parable “My Destinaition,” following the man on the horse who hears the bugles call. Ani’s journey is full of what the reader recognizes as unusual kindness from strangers, but Ani’s past is so full of unusual cruelty and misplaced guilt it takes her a while to get on the same page as the rest of us. She is not given any particular religion, nor are the people around her, but when she finds herself in a study house full of people debating and arguing an endless story, of which we are all part, the parallels to Judaism are unmistakable. As is the resemblance of Ani’s past to a gender flipped biblical story of Ishmael.
By contrast, the other story, “Fro,” follows Annamae, who is very obviously Jewish, and rapidly approaching puberty in Manhattan. Annamae is no less lonely or searching than Ani is, but she has both family and a community around her. When Annamae’s struggles to express herself and be understood reach a critical level her mother finds that while medical professionals and school counselors are not helpful, a Rabbi is. Rabbi Harriet first met the family upon the occasion of Annamae’s father’s passing, and is exactly what Annamae needs. Not for spirituality per se, but because Annamae thinks about the world in ways which are most amenable to discussion with a gentle Rabbi who slurps her soup but has the best stories about creation and the Torah.
You can only read a book for the first time once, and by pure chance I started with the “To” narrative. I got a small thrill every time an artifact from “To” suddenly appeared in “Fro” and I found myself linking the stories together, finding how the narratives can be interlocked and interpreted – both separately and together. I was also inspired with so many different ways to write and treat narrative structure in my own work. However, I am deeply curious as to how this book would have felt had I read it the other way round.
That’s not something I can experience on my own. And with that realization, my reading of the novel became communal. If I truly want to know what the experience is like starting from “Fro” I am going to have to find someone who read it in that order. (The cover copy is very clear that starting from either side is acceptable and encouraged). Perhaps that person and I will end up discussing the varying points in the two journeys. We might argue what the significance of say, the ferryman’s wings, is. Indeed we could spend hours on this, much like the members of the study house Ani encounters. The beauty of this is not lost on me.
To & Fro is at its heart a story about loneliness and seeking. It features two girls, in the most vulnerable part of their lives, who are both seeking similar things, in similar ways, despite their dissimilar background and worlds. You can read almost anything you want into this story, but in doing so you join the narrative. It is a book about loneliness that ultimately forms a community from its readers. And that is a feat I have not seen before. I thoroughly enjoyed being surprised by it and look forward to debating it with other readers -perhaps even some of you!
Note: BookishlyJewish received a free arc of this book after requesting one from the publisher.
The first book in Jamie Krakover’s YA, sci fi Tracker Sequence – Tracker220 – presented unique questions for readers both Jewish and secular. How can tech be integrated into shabbat? How much personal liberty are we willing to sacrifice for interconnectedness? What human enhancements go too far? We reviewed that book HERE and you can read an interview with the author HERE. Today we are excited to bring you a cover reveal for the second book in the sequence – Authority!
Here’s the cover copy:
“Her glitch destroyed their system… or so she thought.
It’s been six months since Kaya, Bailen, and the Ghosts leveraged her glitch to destroy the tracker network. With it came the eradication of the authorities and an end to Rufus Scurry’s secret plans to mind control the world. While Kaya appreciates her recovered sense of privacy and newfound connection to Judaism, millions believe life is worse without trackers.
As the Ghosts deploy old technology to fill the void, people around Kaya begin acting strangely—doing things they don’t have control over. Some, like her ex-boyfriend Harlow, are losing time all together.
When Kaya receives a threat from an unknown user on her deactivated tracker, she seeks to uncover who is behind it and how they are using the old network. But more people are falling victim to the mind control every day, sending Kaya scrambling to end the loophole before she loses everyone she loves to the technology she’s learned to live with.”
And without further ado here is the gorgeous cover, by cover artist Jennifer Stolzer.
This is our third year participating in the Sydney Taylor Book Award Blog Tour. The Sydney Taylor Book Award is presented annually to outstanding books for children and teens that authentically portray the Jewish experience. This year we were paired with the author/illustrator team of Neal Shusterman and Andrés Vera Martínez who received a Young Adult Honor for their graphic novel Courage to Dream.
This interview is unique, because aside from providing insight into the book itself, it also speaks to the teamwork between a writer and artist when creating a graphic novel together. We learned so much from this discussion and will be reviewing the book soon!
BookishlyJewish: Congratulations on the win! How does it feel to be a Sydney Taylor Honor book winner?
NS – What an incredible honor! It’s wonderful to know that the book is appreciated by the American Jewish community—and hopefully that will help get it into the hands of more kids who need to read it!
AVM – It’s an absolute honor knowing that Courage to Dreamhas been embraced by the American Jewish community, particularly the librarians who continue to play a crucial role in connecting readers with our book.
BookishlyJewish:What was the inspiration behind Courage To Dream? How did this Book Come to Be?
NS – I was inspired by the contemporary artist Jeffrey Schrier, a good friend who creates a lot of Jewish-themed art. I wanted to see if there was a way that I could contribute something of my own to that arena. Then, when Scholastic approached me with the idea of doing a holocaust-themed book, I realized that would be the perfect opportunity. Originally, we thought of working together, but ultimately that didn’t work out. Still, I’m grateful for his friendship, and the inspiration!
AVM – I was inspired to begin working on the project immediately after reading Neal’s amazing story. It instantly brought brilliant images to my mind that I started sketching directly on the printed script. I got so swept up in drawing that I almost forgot to email Scholastic back that I was taking on the project.
BookishlyJewish:The work is obviously a collaboration between author and illustrator, how did that work and how did you two originally connect with one another and this story?
NS – The “script” for the book was done long before we found the right artist. There were artists who could capture the realistic aspects of the story, but couldn’t capture the fantasy. There were artists with a sense of fantasy, but whose sensibilities didn’t connect with the gritty realism the book needed to have. And then we found Andrés! He took these stories and transformed them into visual marvels. I still get chills when I look at some of the book’s artwork.
AVM – Writing for graphic novels is much like writing a screenplay for a film. Neal applied a vast understanding of cinematic knowledge to his script, writing characters and environments to fit a three dimensional world, smooth scene transitions, and he provided clear, impactful dialogue that moved the story forward at a perfect pace. Collaborating with Neal was a breeze. He had already illustrated the story with words before I even started.
BookishlyJewish:The Holocaust is a difficult topic to write about, especially for younger readers, how did you approach this?
NS – The use of fantasy, folklore, and hope in the face of horror was crucial. The goal was to make each of the stories uplifting, in spite of the difficult subject matter, without sugar-coating the truth. I think Andrés’ visuals play a big part in making it work.
AVM – Master animation director, Hayao Miyazaki, offered a guide. His films sometimes carry heavy themes, but retain an alluring charm with the expressiveness and innocence of his main characters. I aspired to capture that to the best of my ability.
The work of cartoonist, Jack Kirby and the superhero characters he created with Stan Lee brought me so much joy as a young artist. Many early comic writers and artists were Jewish American. I thought using Marvel Comics from the 60’s as inspiration for the fantasy aspect of the book made sense. To me, those early comics visually matched the energy, awe and power that was in Neal’s story and they were historically and culturally connected.
BookishlyJewish:The choice to use five interlocking stories is very intriguing. Can you speak more about this?
NS – It started with “He Opens a Window” which was a short story I had written years ago. I had initially thought that would be the book, but I kept having other ideas, and realized that seeing different facets of the Holocaust would be a better way to go. Visually, Andrés brought a different look to each story.
AVM – I decided to slightly shift the color palette and the level of rendering with each story. The first two stories are colored with subtle hues and drawn with crosshatched lines. As the stories unfold the colors get brighter and the rendering less and less. In the last story, which takes place today, the pallet is brightest with minimal lines. I wanted to give a sense to the reader that they were coming from darkness into light.
BookishlyJewish:Who is the target audience for Courage To Dream and what are you hoping readers take away from it?
NS – It’s a broad target audience. We see the book being used in upper elementary, all the way through High school in holocaust units. We’ve already spoken at some schools who are using it as less intimidating entre into the subject, before getting into heavier material, like Elie Wiesel’s Night.
AVM – Yes, Neal did a brilliant job writing a story that is inclusive and mindful of a large audience. I picked up on that and tried to do the same as I created the art.
BookishlyJewish:What has been the reader’s response to Courage?
NS – Overwhelmingly positive! We couldn’t have hoped for better! And you never know—especially when dealing with sensitive subject matter—how it’s going to be received. We’re happy the book is being embraced.
AVM – I had the chance to join Neal on tour to promote the book. As an artist who is usually in the studio, seeing such positive responses from students, teachers, librarians, and bookstore customers, in real time, was amazing!
BookishlyJewish:Has anything surprised along the process from first thinking about the book to publication to now being an award winner?
NS – I’ve been pleasantly surprised that there hasn’t been push back against the idea of using fantasy as a way to discuss the Holocaust, because we tend to think of fantasy as whimsical and frivolous. Andrés and I worked very hard to strip away anything that could be seen as frivolous or gratuitous—but you never know if you’ve succeeded until you see how people react.
AVM – The immediacy of images, their ability to evoke gut reactions, worried me when tasked to draw a children’s book set during the Holocaust. I admire artists in history that take risks and have important things to say. It takes a certain measure of bravery to be vulnerable. Artists can meticulously plan and hone their skills but don’t really know how their work will be received until they offer it up for a large sampling of feedback.
BookishlyJewish:How has this book differed from your other work?
NS – For me it was more like writing a screenplay, or stage play than writing a book. I always try to take on difficult subjects, so there’s that similarity—but with this book there was a sense of reverence to the subject matter. Who am I to have something to say about the Holocaust? I think I approached it knowing that I was treading on hallowed ground.
AVM – My fascination with stories that straddle reality and fantasy might be rooted in my Mexican American background, where magic realism finds fertile ground. Growing up in both Catholic and indigenous traditions instilled a unique blend of artistic sensibilities that embrace duality. This is probably most evident in the projects I choose, which are usually historical fiction sprinkled with a healthy dose of fantasy.
BookishlyJewish:Any future plans we should know about?
NS – I have two books coming out in 2024 – In May, Shock the Monkey, the second book in the comic-sci fi series “The Noah Files”, which I’m cowriting with Eric Elfman. Then, in July, Break to You a romance that takes place in a juvenile detention center, which I cowrote with authors Michelle Knowlden and Debra Young – so it’s been a lot of collaboration lately! And I know Andrés has some exciting things coming up!
AVM – Thanks Neal! In fall 2024, the middle grade graphic novel series, Monster Locker, will make its debut. It’s about a middle school kid named Pablo who accidentally unleashes a vengeful Aztec Earth Goddess from his locker in Columbus, Ohio. I co-created the series with the brilliant animation writer Jorge Aguirre. Monster Locker vol 2. will come out in the fall of 2025. Also in 2025, my graphic novel adaptation of Pam Muñoz Ryan’s beloved novel, Esperanza Rising, will be released.
BookishlyJewish:I always end by asking if you have a favorite Jewish book to recommend to others?
NS –The Way Back by Gavriel Savit. I had the honor of being a judge for the National Book Awards a couple of years ago, and I am thrilled that The Way Back made our short list. It’s wonderful blending of history and folklore!
AVM –Maus by Art Spiegelman revolutionized American comics. Before Maus, comics were dominated by superheroes and lighthearted fare, primarily aimed at teenage boys.
The Pulitzer Prize winner shattered perceptions, pushing publishing houses to see the potential of graphic novels for a wider audience. Soon after, a golden age of American comics blossomed for all ages and genres.
Food is at the heart of many cultures. For me in particular, preparing festive foods provides a way for me to connect with both my own Jewish heritage and Jews around the world from various traditions. I mark my time in food – special recipes made every year as part of the holidays take me through the seasons, and the special treats and dishes served at life cycle events shepherd me through these meaningful moments. I may not be the worlds best chanter of prayers and my Synagogue attendance is far from perfect, but I can worship in the kitchen along with the best of them.
Indeed, Jewish tradition pairs very well with an appreciation of gastronomy. Unlike some other religions, Judaism does not view abstinence as a virtue. Instead, we believe that the world was created full of wonderful things for humans to enjoy within the confines of Jewish law. For instance, using a beautiful floral table setting and serving fancy cheesecake on the holiday of Shavuot elevates an otherwise materialistic pursuit into the spiritual plane (provided one has their intentions in the right place). There is nothing shameful about worldly pursuits. It is our job to imbue them with meaning.
Through shared food traditions, Jews across the globe can be united in the diaspora. Even when these traditions take on different forms – some dip an apple in honey, while others use sugar, but we are all striving to symbolize the sweetness of the coming year. We may not speak the same language verbally, but our stomachs know how to communicate love, comfort, and community across all barriers. Which is why I particularly love reading books that incorporate elements of Jewish cuisine.
In Stacey Agdern’s sweet contemporary m/f romance, Love and Latkes, food takes center stage – literally. Our heroine Batya, aspiring to be the host of food related TV programming, is given the opportunity of a lifetime. The celebrity judge of a local Hanukkah food competition has dropped out and Batya is offered the gig as a trial run to see how she handles the spotlight. If she does well, she can advance in the large food related television network that is broadcasting the competition. The hitch? Her crush from high school will be competing in order to further his dream of opening a Jewish deli. The romance is sweet but the applesauce is sweeter as the competition provides an excuse to learn about Hanukkah related fare from around the world (include a memorable foray into cheese latkes!)
Television competition also provides the setting for Amanda Elliot’s adult contemporary m/f romance, Sadie on a Plate. Sadie is a professional chef in uncertain career circumstances thanks to the shenanigans of her ex boyfriend and former boss, whom the reader comes to loathe with a passion usually reserved for chopped liver. She is pulled from this funk by the opportunity to compete in a highly popular reality TV cooking competition. The show and resulting publicity could reboot her flailing career trajectory. Except when she inadvertently falls for one of the judges on the plane ride over things get complicated. Now she has to battle her feelings even as she battles in the kitchen – modernizing classics like gefilte fish and matzah ball soup under the watchful eye of the crush she must pretend she doesn’t know personally. Sadie finds herself through food and in a lovely bunch of side arcs- so do the other contestants.
A competition of entirely different sorts is found in Jennieke Cohen’s young adult “My Fair Lady” retelling, My Fine Fellow. In this alternate history 1830’s London, gastronomy reigns supreme and two budding culinarians attempt to teach a Jewish food peddler from the streets the finer arts of cooking for the rich and famous. Aside from the intricate haute cuisine descriptions, this book also contains an complex discussion about how various Jews keep kosher and what this means for a chef with non-Jewish clientele. The storyline also delves into how lack of knowledge about Jewish food restrictions often leads to inadvertent antisemitism and microaggressions. There is overt antisemitism present, but in this kinder, gentler London, where women aspire to high ranking careers through food, culinary talent wins out over preformed prejudices.
Also in the young adult realm is Betsy Aldredge’s contemporary m/f romance Eight Dates and Eight Nights. Set in Texas, with New York City dweller Hannah stuck at her grandmother’s house in a small town in Texas over Hanukkah, this book features a variety of Jewish Deli favorites, including Hanukkah foods like latkes. Hannah, homesick and grieving the loss of her usual Hanukkah celebrations, finds comfort in the unexpected presence of a Jewish deli on main street. Turns out there is an old Jewish community in the town, and their deli needs saving. The deli owner’s grandson Noah vows to bring the joy of Hanukkah back to Hannah’s life even as she helps him secure additional deli customers through increased social media usage. Because it turns out Hannah isn’t the only one looking for that nostalgic taste of home that only deli food can bring to an Ashkenaz city Jew who just so happens to be in Texas. The food descriptions are stellar, but even better is the acknowledgement that many such communities – in places “city” Jews might not expect to meet them – exist and thrive. Plus they make a mean bagel.
Speaking of city Jews celebrating Hanukkah – The Dreidel Do-Over by Amanda Usen is full of them. Specifically, our main character Talia is a chef, currently providing catering for a boat full of Jews celebrating Hanukkah when the bartender on the same boat cruise starts to flirt with her. Talia runs the catering brand “The Jewish Grandmother,” and it turns out the bartender is her long lost friend from summer camp, Asher. Now that they are all grown up, sparks are flying, but there’s one hitch – Asher hates Hanukkah due to various disappointing life events that have occurred surrounding that day. Food, specifically Talia’s extremely creative takes on classic Ashkenazi Jewish food, helps him find a way back to both his roots and to her.
Connecting with ones roots is also the subject of Aimee Lucido’s Middle Grade contemporary novel, Recipe for Disaster. Main character Hannah loves to bake but hasn’t really thought much about the Jewish aspect of her heritage until she attends her best friends Bat Miztvah and starts desiring one of her own. Her mother is no pro-this idea, but together with her grandmother, Hannah is determined to prove she really is Jewish despite not having attended temple. Readers who wonder if they are “Jewish enough”, or who connect to Judaism through cultural elements like food rather prayer, Torah scholarship, or Synagouge attendance will really identify with her story. The recipes included are for both food and life, because everyone connects to Judaism differently – sometimes even in the same family – but food is universal.
I’d love to see even more Jewish food cultures represented in literature – including books featuring sephardic and mizrachi foods. They take me on a journey that truly activated every one of my senses while connecting me to Jews past, present, and future who have enjoyed and will cottninue enjoying the celebration of our lives through food.
